


Role of a Paladin, Role of a Brother

by IcyPanther



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Langst, Missing Scene, Platonic Relationships, Protective Lance (Voltron), Protective Siblings, Season/Series 07, Whump, Whump trope, protective veronica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 10:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17078708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: “What were you thinking?” Veronica’s question echoed in the hospital room, her tone angry and desperate andscaredall rolled into one. Her eyes flashed, hands clenched into fists at her sides, as she approached the bed that Lance was propped up in. “What were you thinking?” she repeated, demanded.  Lance didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t sure there really was one.





	Role of a Paladin, Role of a Brother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pokimoko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokimoko/gifts).



> **Timeline notes:** Set very, very end of season seven  
>  **Warning notes:** None

“What were you thinking?”

Veronica’s voice was clipped, harsh, matching ocean eyes flashing behind her glasses and words punctuated by the click of her heeled boots on the hospital floor.

Lance’s immediate response of something about appropriate bedside manner or a cheery “why hello to you too,” died on his tongue as Veronica approached where he was sitting propped up in the narrow hospital bed.

She wasn’t just angry.

She was _pissed._

“Um, _lo siento?”_  he offered, figuring an apology was the right way to go.

He’d just been cleared by the doctors following the crash where he’d been pulled unconscious out of the Red Lion and rushed to the fortunately still standing hospital on the Garrison grounds. He’d woken up a little while ago and had been told he was on concussion watch and had a number of contusions over his forearms and along his legs and lighter bruising along his back, shoulders and chest, but otherwise, considering the severity of not just that impact but the other fights they’d been involved in that day (and _Dios,_ Lance still couldn’t believe all of that had happened in a matter of hours), he had walked away relatively unscathed.

Under the watchful eye of the doctors he’d changed into the hospital gown, been hooked up to both a heart monitor for “precautions” and to an IV drip to assist in replenishing his body’s fluids along with a mild pain reliever as the doctor had said, her lips quirking up, he would be feeling those bruises shortly as the remnants of his adrenaline worked itself out now that he was stationary, and all he’d been told was his team was fine, no major injuries, and his family would be allowed to see him shortly.

So Lance had been expecting his parents and siblings to be appearing soon to ask him how he was feeling, to offer what comforts they could and shower him with some love and affection that he didn’t think he would ever get enough of.

He had a year (four years to them) to make up for after all.

But he had not expected this.

His apology only seemed to make Veronica more upset as her nostrils flared and an actual _growl_ emitted from her throat.

“What were you thinking?” she repeated.

“I don’t—”

Her hands descended on his his shoulders and he was _slammed_ back against the pillows.

He was too surprised to do anything even as his back _ached_ as the bruises forming there protested to the rough handling greatly.

“ _¿Qué estabas pensando?_ ” she demanded as though asking it in Spanish would make the question clearer. “¿ _Qué_ , Lance? ¿ _Qué_?”

Lance had no idea what she was asking about and gave the barest shake of his head, eyes wide.

They widened more as behind the flash of Veronica’s glasses and her narrowed glare… there were tears sparking in the corners of eyes.

“V-Veronica?”

And just like that Veronica deflated in front of him, her hands sliding from his shoulders and she hunched over as though in pain.

“What were you thinking? _”_ she whispered. “You… you _idiot.”_

Lance still didn’t know what the question was or what answer she wanted.

A quiet _beep… beep… beep…_ from his heart monitor, clipped on his right index finger was the only sound in the room.

A minute passed.

Then another.

Lance swallowed, his throat dry and gummy at the same time.

“Um… Veronica? Is… is everything okay?”

She lifted her head and while the tears had cleared there was still a hot smolder to the cool gaze.

“No, Lance. Everything is most definitely not okay.”

Lance paled.

The heart monitor spiked.

“My team, they, the doctor said—”

Veronica’s face immediately softened and she lifted her hands, wrapping them about his left one sitting unhindered atop the blankets. “Oh, no, _hermanito,_ they’re all right. I promise, they’re all okay.”

Lance shuddered out a breath.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you. But…” Her grip tightened. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Lance said softly. “Red went offline and—”

“Not then,” she interrupted. “Well, yes, then too but… I meant earlier, Lance.”

Lance frowned, trying to think of what she meant. There had been a lot of things happening. The whole Sanda betraying them and they ended up captured, the shield panels and redirection, the battle against Sendak and then against that mecha — of which he still knew nothing about — that had tossed Voltron around like a ragdoll.

All of those had been scary.

And as scared as he had been he could only imagine what it must have been like to be on comms and only able to hear them, hear screaming and shouting and explosions, and not be able to do anything.

But…

But he hadn’t been able to help any of that. It was what happened in a battle. His and Veronica’s conversation from earlier floated across his mind.

 _“I don't like to see you put yourself in danger,”_ he’d told her quietly, concerned, as she drove towards the mission point to get a glimpse of the interior Galran operations.

“ _That’s very sweet, but knock it off. You’re an idiot if you think I’m not going to defend our home.”_

He felt his lips pulling into a frown.

She couldn’t be angry at him when she was just as willing to do the same.

“We’re in a war,” he said softly. “Things hap—”

“No!”

Her voice was sharp again.

Lance had a feeling he’d misunderstood.

“No, Lance,” her hands were gripping his one almost painfully now. “No.”

“I… I don’t understand,” he admitted.

The soft huff of laughter was unexpected and Veronica shook her head. “No. Of course you don’t.”

He kept quiet.

“Before,” Veronica said. “When… when we were attacked while you were trying to summon the Red Lion.”

Lance remembered that.

_Blaster fire._

_Brakes squealing._

_Veronica screaming. Him too._

_The world tipping over and pain pain pain._

_Voices of his team shouting in his ear, Shiro’s, “Lance, where are you? Can you hear me?”_

_Ringing._

_So much ringing._

_And then… then spotting Veronica lying thrown free of the ruined vehicle._

_Not moving._

“I think you scared me more,” Lance said softly, wincing at the recollection. “You… you were just lying there, Veronica. And I thought…”

He’d thought she was dead.

Thrown through the front window, broken glass surrounding her, limbs splayed...

She’d been so still.

Hearing her choked gasp of his name had been a choir of angels.

And then it had been overtaken by the sound of the battle coming back as sentries and drones alike opened fire.

He’d gotten in front of her, opened his shield and returned fire as best he could.

And then…

Then…

His eyes widened.

The battle cruiser had arrived.

And he had…

Oh.

_Oh._

Veronica must have seen his expression change as her hands tightened once more.

“What were you thinking?” she asked, although this time the question was gentler. “ _Dime,_ Lance. Why… why didn’t you _run?”_

Lance remembered turning his bayard on the cruiser.

Yelling.

The shots pinging off the hull without so much as a mark.

Realizing that he couldn’t stop it.

That…

That…

He remembered closing his eyes, drawing one last deep breath.

It… it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d stared down death, had acted as a shield.

It would be his last.

He’d lowered his gun, knowing it was useless.

He’d wrapped his arm instead around Veronica, clutching her to him.

And…

And he’d waited for death.

Red had arrived first.

He hadn’t really thought much about it after the fact as it had been a race to board Red, to destroy the remaining sentries and bots, contact the Garrison so someone could retrieve Veronica and then back to battle.

But apparently Veronica had been thinking on it.

A lot.

“I…” he swallowed. “I… I couldn’t. You would have…”

“And you think it’s better we both die instead?” she asked and Lance flinched. “Lance, _hermanito,_ no. _No.”_

“But Red—”

“No,” she cut him off. “What if the Red Lion had not shown up then? What then?”

Lance knew the answer to that.

So did Veronica.

“You should have run,” she whispered. “ _Dios,_ Lance. We… we just got you back. We thought you were _dead_ for over a year and even, even when Commander Holt shared that video… it was almost three years ago now. We had no idea what happened in that time, if you were still alive. And… and you finally come back to us only for Mamá to lose you again? No. You can’t do that to her. You can’t do that to our family.”

Lance shook his head.

How could she say that?

How could she say that as though her death was meaningless?

“You’re wrong,” he said, voice low. “Veronica, you’re wrong.”

“What are you—”

“I’ve been gone for years,” Lance cut in. “You… you did all think I was…”

 _Dios,_ they’d thought he’d died.

“And you, you moved past it,” he continued.

His throat felt thick at the admission.

They had moved on.

They could have done it again.

But to lose Veronica?

No.

“Lance—”

“I had to _try,”_ he choked out. “They can’t lose you, Veronica. They can’t.”

“We would both have died,” she growled. “There was no way, Lance. There was no way and you just… you…”

“I’m a Paladin of Voltron,” he said, voice more even than he felt. His hands were shaking beneath Veronica’s tight hold.

He was a Paladin of Voltron.

They protected people.

No matter the cost.

“You’re a child—”

“I’m eighteen!”

“You’re my brother!” she roared.

Lance froze.

“You’re my brother,” she repeated, tears in her voice. “I know you’re a Paladin. I know you’re a hero. But Lance,” and tears were starting to trickle down her cheeks. “You’re my brother first. My baby brother. And I… I almost lost you.”

Veronica’s hands shifted to his shoulders and then around as she sat herself onto the lip of the bed and pulled Lance into her arms.

“I almost lost you,” she murmured, hands fisting in the back of his hospital shirt and Lance shakily brought his about her waist, his forehead pressed against her shoulder. “ _Dios,_ Lance. I… I would have _never_ forgiven myself if you had died because of me. Please… please don’t ever do something like that again.”

Lance…

Lance couldn’t promise that.

He was a Paladin of Voltron, a defender of the universe. It was a role and title he took on proudly and bravely and he wouldn’t change that for anything.

And more than that he could not stand by when someone was in trouble. When there was the chance he could do something, even though he knew his shield would have been no match against the Galra battleship.

But still…

He couldn’t run.

He couldn’t leave someone behind.

And even if he couldn’t save them...

No one…

No one should die alone.

“ _Lo siento,”_ he whispered instead and he felt Veronica’s chest heave with a sob.

She knew it too.

“You stupid, selfless idiot,” she said instead, one hand moving to cup the back of his head and Lance sank into the gentle touch as her fingers combed through his hair, careful of the bandage and the bump it hid.

“I really… really am sorry,” he said, words muffled against her shoulder but he knew she heard them.

He didn’t want to put their family through pain like that ever again.

But…

But he knew that if someone were in trouble, if there was something he could do to stop it…

He would do so every time.

He’d tackled Coran from a bomb blast after barely days of knowing him.

He’d intercepted a shot that could have killed Allura, did kill him although he pushed that cold shiver away, without even a second thought to save her.

He’d taken multiple other hits and blaster fire initially aimed at someone else in the course of being a Paladin and he knew he would continue to do so.

Maybe he was a selfless idiot, but…

But he didn’t want to be any other way.

He couldn’t be.

“I know,” Veronica said softly. “I’m so proud of you, _hermanito._ The universe is lucky to have you.”

Lance felt his cheeks flush pink with pleasure.

“But,” and he could hear her smile, “I’m even luckier to have you as my brother.”

His cheeks grew darker.

He felt her lips press a kiss to the top of his head.

“ _Gracias,_ Lance,” she whispered. “For protecting me.”

“Right… right back at you,” he managed around the lump growing in his throat.

“ _Te quiero,”_ she pressed another kiss to his head.

“ _Te quiero,”_ he murmured back.

They held each other for a few moments, the quiet this time comfortable.

“Now,” she shifted some and Lance lifted his head to meet her red-rimmed gaze. “I think the rest of our family wants to smother you with love.”

“Oh good, some actual bedside manner,” Lance teased, blinking back the sting to his own eyes.

Veronica lightly smacked his shoulder. “Brat.”

She leaned forward and pulled him into another hug, this one tight, and Lance let out a soft squeak.

He could hear Veronica’s laugh rumbling through her and he let out a light one of his own that even though it sent his bruises aching didn’t hurt at all.

“My baby brother,” she murmured.

And that, Lance decided, was his favorite role of them all.

**Author's Note:**

> Dawww ♥ This fic is the second place prize winner for my art contest. Pokimoko requested the whump trope of “anger born from worry” with Lance and Veronica and I immediately latched onto this idea because yes? (I write these notes from a pre-season eight world) but we never got any reconciliation from Lance being a, to quote Veronica, “selfless idiot,” and that habit of his to literally jump into the line of fire. (And notes from post-season eight, hardly any Veronica and Lance moments and definitely no note of Lance’s sacrificial tendencies so ha, here we go).
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the prompt, Pokimoko! And I hope everyone else did too! Please do leave a comment below, I’d love to hear from you and happy comments make for a happy author!


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